"Aye," Kincaid agreed with reassuring firmness. "Wisdom is acquired with years, my love. And few mistakes are irretrievable. You must behave publicly with Buckingham as if the incident had never happened. You may rest assured that he will respond in kind."
Polly walked to the window. She had not told them of the duke's threat, and now decided that she would not. It would alarm Nicholas, and she had already caused him sufficient upset. "The game is over, is it not?" Slowly she turned back to the room, scanning their faces.
"I think so," Richard said. "But we have been able to win the support of the Duke of York as a result of your findings. He will not willingly see his father-in-law ousted as chancellor. He has also said that he will appoint the Duke of Al-bermarle to act alone as Lord High Admiral in his own absence with the navy. That will ensure that Buckingham and his friends do not divide the responsibilities and the spoils of the post." He smiled, coming to lay a hand on her
shoulder. "You have done well, my dear. One cannot expect to achieve miracles. We advance slowly over rough terrain. But we have advanced… Besides-" He walked over to the table, selecting an apple from the copper fruit bowl, tossing it thoughtfully between his hands "-I do not think there will be inclination or opportunity for plotting on either side for a while. It was for that reason that I came this evening."
"Oh?" Nick looked at him inquiringly. "You have news?"
"Aye." Richard bit into the apple. "There is talk of the royal family's moving to Hampton Court within the month."
There was a long, considering silence. A candle spluttered under a breeze from the open window. "The plague?" Nick said eventually.
Richard nodded. "A dozen houses have been shut up in the city already. 'Tis to be hoped it will contain the outbreak, but there are those who advise greater caution. It is feared that this may be more than a few isolated incidents, as occurred in December."
Polly had heard the rumors in the last week or two, but had thought them no more than the tales of alarmists. True, the shutting up of afflicted households was a drastic move on the part of the city aldermans and justices, but she had thought little of it, so wrapped up was she in the excitements, strains, and joys of her present existence. But now, the thought that the king and court were planning to leave a city where the sickness lurked put a different complexion on the matter. Perhaps there was real cause for fear? She looked into the eyes of De Winter, then turned to Nick. The answer was clearly to be read as they both returned her gaze in grave silence.
She turned again to the window, looking down on the familiar bustle of Drury Lane, where links flickered, lighting a walker home, carriages rolled, lamps shone yellow behind casement windows, witness to the warmth and life within. It was an ordinary London street where the business of birthing
and dying went on in ageless fashion, according to social ritual and at nature's pace. What would happen if a wrench were thrown to alter that pace, to destroy the rituals?
A gray specter filled her vision, and her scalp contracted as a graveyard shiver ran down her spine. She looked again at her companions; and saw that the specter had touched"them, also.
Chapter 16
Iwill not travel with Lady Margaret!" Polly repeated fiercely, for the tenth time in the last hour. Nicholas struggled to hang on to the remaining threads of temper and patience. "You cannot expect me to make two journeys, Polly. Do you really imagine I should leave you here, escort Margaret and the household to her brother in Leicestershire, then come back to take you to Wilton House?"
"I do not expect you to do anything," Polly said, her mouth stubborn. "I have asked nothing of you, have I? I understand that you have a duty to your family, but I am not a member of your family. Look after Lady Margaret, and I will make my own way to Wiltshire. I can go on the public stage." Turning her back to him, she looked out of the tight-shut window onto Drury Lane, languishing under a May heat wave fiercer than any other in living memory.
There were few people about; those there were walked in the middle of the street, well away from doorways and side streets where they might find themselves suddenly in contact with a fellow human being-one who might be distempered, even without his knowing it. They carried handkerchiefs soaked in vinegar pressed to mouths and noses, for it was said that one drew in death when one breathed.
She noticed that two more houses across the street bore the red cross and the scrawled letters of the only prayer left for the inhabitants to pray: Lord have mercy upon us. The watchman leaned against one of the doors, absently picking his teeth. A window opened above him; a head appeared. The watchman stood away from the door, looking up. Then, with a short nod, he went off up the street. To fetch the physician, perhaps, Polly wondered, or the nurse; not the dead cart yet; that would not start its rounds until nightfall, when the city would resound to the melancholy tolling of the bell, and the cry to "Bring out your dead."
Nick stood looking at her averted back as he fought with an anger fueled by desperation and fear. The longer they remained in this city-become-lazar-house, the more inescapable their fate. The court, anxious to get as far from London as possible, had moved from Hampton Court to the seat of the Earl of Pembroke, Wilton House, near Salisbury. People were fleeing the city in droves; he had an absolute family duty to ensure the safety of his sister-in-law and the household dependent upon him. And Polly was telling him that that duty did not encompass her.
If she were his wife… No, now was hardly the appropriate moment to bring up that particular matter. He had intended, once the wretched affair with Buckingham was dealt with, to tackle the question at leisure. It was a subject of some considerable complexity, involving as it would the inevitable, boundless opposition of his sister-in-law; questions of residence, both Margaret's and theirs; and not least his own unresolved difficulties with the idea of sharing his wife with the theatregoing public. It was hard enough for him to share his mistress with an outward show of equanimity-but the mother of his children! In the last weeks, however, all issues had become subsumed under a brutal and undiscriminating scourge. Death, and its avoidance, were the only relevancies at present.
"I am not asking you to travel in the same coach as Margaret." There was a frayed edge to his voice that warned Polly she was pushing against his outer limits. "You may
travel in your own vehicle, which, like Margaret's, will be under the protection of my outriders and postilions."
"And what about the stops we must make along the way?" demanded Polly, unable to understand how he could not see how impossible it would be for her. "Must I stay under the same roof, or will you scout the countryside each night for two suitable neighboring inns in which to house your-" She was about to say "whore" in imitation ot Lady Margaret, but caught herself in time. "Your mistress and your sister?"
Nicholas gave up the attempt to reason with her. "I will make what arrangements I deem necessary," he said. "If you oblige me to use torce to achieve your compliance, I will do so. But in such a situation you will find your position much more embarrassing than anything you fear at the moment, I can promise you."
"Dear me," came a quiet voice from the door. "I do beg your pardon for intruding, but matters must be serious if Nicholas is obliged to resort to threats." Richard stepped into the parlor, closing the door behind him. "I am come to bid you farewell. I leave for Wilton House this evening, and assume you will be gone yourselves without delay."
"I will not travel with Lady Margaret!" Polly cried in despair. "And Nicholas is going to make me! Can you imagine what it would be like, Richard?"